


Honesty is a Virtue

by ineptshieldmaid



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Consent, Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-26
Updated: 2010-03-26
Packaged: 2017-10-13 13:36:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/137959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineptshieldmaid/pseuds/ineptshieldmaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin had never been one for lying to himself. He was quite well aware that his feelings on the matter of Prince Arthur were improper, in many respects. There was the part where Arthur was, quite simply, a hideous prat: it probably wasn't proper to think such things, and Merlin thought them all the time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honesty is a Virtue

**Author's Note:**

> For the kinkmeme prompt "begging for consent". Beta'd by Trojie.

Merlin had never been one for lying to himself. He was quite well aware that his feelings on the matter of Prince Arthur were improper, in many respects. There was the part where Arthur was, quite simply, a hideous prat: it probably wasn't proper to think such things, and Merlin thought them _all the time_.

What he also thought, all the time, or near enough to it as to make no difference, were thoughts like _I do believe I would find it extremely satisfactory if Prince Arthur were to perform fellatio on my male member_. Only not quite like that. More like _gnnnnnnn_ , accompanied by an extremely vivid picture of Arthur, on his knees and with Merlin's cock in his mouth. This was most definitely improper. As was having a significant hard-on while trying to sort out sticks and campfires and crucially important things like that

Merlin might have complained that it was improper of Arthur to be wandering about the campsite naked from the waist up, but really, only an idiot would complain about a thing like that.

"Mer-lin," Arthur drawled, taking the tinderbox out of Merlin's hands. "One day, you should think about learning how to _light a damn campfire_."

Merlin remained silent, because his two possible answers were both equally inadvisable. _I'm sorry, sire, it's just I normally do it by magic?_ Not such a good idea. _I'm sorry, sire, it's just that I'm dreadfully aroused by your unclothed presence?_ Also not a good idea.

Oddly, when Gawain and Bors trooped back into the clearing bearing a brace of hares each for that night's dinner, Arthur demanded that Merlin finish dressing him at once. Merlin muttered something about Arthur having been the one who undressed in the first place, and Merlin was bemused to find that Arthur flushed faintly red, and Gawain and Bors both managed to be mysteriously occupied staring in opposite directions.

As was usual on these hunting trips, Merlin was not assigned sentry duty, but Arthur was. Seeing as Arthur had some sort of nobility complex, he usually took the dead watch, the dank and endless hours before the pre-dawn light cracked the horizon. And what he usually did, because he might be noble but he was still a prat, was kick Merlin as he woke up, and insist that Merlin sit around with him on the nearest high vantage point, and there he would keep himself occupied for several hours coming up with new and more interesting insults to bestow upon his faithful manservant.

On this particular evening, however, Merlin woke up to find that the fire had nearly died, Gawain and Bors were both sound asleep, and Arthur was nowhere in sight. Merlin's first thought was that something must have gone wrong - but Gawain and Bors were both unharmed, and there were no signs of disturbance anywherre. Merlin's next thought was that Arthur must have noticed him staring, and maybe he didn't _want_ to sit about in the dark trading insults anymore with Merlin, who stared at him when he was shirtless and then suffered from inappropriate arousal.

Merlin's _third_ thought was that maybe Arthur was off having a wank, up there on the ridge above the campsite. And that, as thoughts go, is a direct route to inappropriate arousal and to Merlin himself needing a good wank. To be honest, Merlin _already_ needed a good wank: they'd been on this pesky boundary-checking jaunt for four days already, with another two days ahead of them, and Merlin didn't know when Gawain or Bors did their wanking, if they did any wanking, but the only time Merlin had to himself was when the knights were off hunting, and he was clunking along, carrying all sorts of bits and pieces of gear and leading the pack-pony. You can't indulge in a good, honest wank in the company of a pack-pony.

The rest of the time, Arthur was just... _there_. In Merlin's face. Saying "Mer-lin" in that horrible, fascinating way of his. Sometimes poking at Merlin's face with his fingers, just to see if Merlin jumped. Or he was wandering around in a state of delightful, but distracting, shirtlessness. So you can understand why, on this particular evening, Merlin was in need of a good wank. What he ought to do, what he really ought to do, was sneak off somewhere and deal with that.

What he did instead was wander up to the ridge above the campsite, in search of Arthur. There were some things that did not bear thinking about, and one of them was the possibility of Arthur being eaten by dragons while Merlin was off having a wank.

Arthur was not sitting on the fallen log, the one Gawain had set up on for first watch that night. This was somewhat disappointing to Merlin, firstly because it meant that Arthur was not, despite Merlin's imaginings on the subject, reclining on said log attending to his pressing personal needs. And secondly because if Arthur was _missing_ then he, Merlin, had to find him, and the third watch of the night was really no time for heroics.

But Merlin was nothing if not heroic, even in the third watch of the night. Unfortunately for him, his efforts to survey the immediate area and identify any prince-kidnappers who might be lurking in the area ran bang smack into Arthur's efforts to identify and neutralise anyone who might be stumbling around and into their campsite. In fact, Merlin ran bang smack into _Arthur_ , and that was how he came to be pinned to the bole of a tree beneath Arthur.

Merlin spluttered. Arthur spluttered back.

"You disappeared!"

"I was taking a leak!" They were both hissing quietly at each other, having come to the instant and unspoken agreement that this sort of ludricous situation was not the sort of thing for which one risked disturbing Gawain's beauty sleep.

"You could have been kidnapped!"

"Merlin. I _am_ a fully trained knight, you know."

 _Well yes, and when has that ever stopped anyone before?_ Merlin wanted to say, except that at that point, his body caught up with him and he noticed that he was _pinned to a tree_ and Arthur's hand was, a) digging into his jaw and b) sort of blocking his windpipe. Accordingly his brain was occupied with a rather frantic litany which went along the lines of _why no, this is not arousing at all, perfectly ordinary misunderstanding, happens to us all the time._ Which it did, because they were skilled like that. It had never not been arousing before, and Merlin knew he was fighting a losing battle here.

"Uh," he said, feeling eloquent. "You can get off me now."

Arthur did not. If anything, Merlin thought Arthur pressed _closer_ to his body, which was not good, not good at all.

"What are you doing, Merlin?" Arthur asked, softly.

 _Speculating wildly about the kinds of noises which you might make if I jerked you off_ \- no, no, terribly inappropriate.

"Looking for you, sire."

"Has it occured to you that I might like to stand my watch _alone_ for once, Merlin?"

Well yes, it had occurred to Merlin, in alarmingly specific detail. He supposed Arthur might have other reasons for wanting privacy, though. He was busy thinking of some when Arthur tilted his chin down slightly, so that they were eye-to-eye and barely a breath apart.

Then they had the same mad idea at the same time, and rather than ending in the sort of well-orchestrated, bone-meltingly perfect kiss upon which Merlin spent considerable time and energy meditating, it ended in some sort of damp collision.

Damp collision had certain attractions. Such as, just for example, the fact that _Arthur_ was in damp collision with, well, if not Merlin's mouth, then his general jaw area.

Damp collision also had several major flaws. Firstly, it was inelegant. Secondly, it was immensely unsatisfying. And thirdly, although damp collision was enough to tie Merlin's insides in knots, it would appear not to have the same effect on Arthur.

"I'm supposed to be standing watch," Arthur said. He was going to move away, Merlin could tell; and that would be the end of - of whatever this was. So Merlin dug his fingernails into Arthur's arms and babbled.

"Wait. Wait, Arthur, what..." Arthur's body went tense against him, and then he did step away, giving Merlin the space to stand up properly, away from the tree. Merlin didn't. He wasn't sure that his legs were taking orders from him at the moment, anyway. Instead he tightened his grip on Arthur's arms and said, "Arthur. _Please_."

This time Arthur kept hold of Merlin's jaw, holding him in place while Arthur leant slowly into him. It was - well, it was nice. Arthur's hips nestled nicely into the hollow of Merlin's stomach, and Merlin's legs tucked easily between Arthur's. It was nice. It was also incredibly hot.

It would be a lot hotter if Arthur were kissing him. Merlin would do something about that himself, but it hadn't worked out so well last time; and regardless, Arthur had him pinned against the tree.

"I," Arthur began. "Merlin. I want..."

Merlin thought he probably ought to find out what it was that Arthur wanted. It might be important. But right now he didn't care _what_ it was that Arthur wanted, as long as he got on with it. So instead he babbled something embarrassing which may have contained words like _anything_ and _please_ and _Arthur_. Apparently one or all of these was effective, because Arthur leaned down and kissed him.

It was a horrible, insufferable prat of a kiss. The sort of kiss where Arthur held Merlin still and teased him, kissed him over and over again but never long enough or hard enough or deep enough.

Fortunately, Merlin found that sort of thing hot.

After a while, when Merlin was squirming and his head was full of garble and he was stupidly, ridiculously hard, Arthur decided it was a good idea to stop. And for some reason, although Merlin had one leg curled around Arthur's and his hands underneath Arthur's shirt, greedily mapping out his skin, Arthur thought it was necessary to ask:

"Is this - Merlin, is this what you want?"

In strict honesty, this was not what Merlin wanted. Not everything he wanted, not by a long shot. But it was near enough that he could rock his hips against Arthur and grit out "Yes, yes, for god's sake Arthur, _yes_."

A short while after that, when Arthur had managed to get under the collar of Merlin's shirt and was sucking and nipping at his collarbone, it occured to one or both of them that they were up against a tree above the campsite, fumbling about and making all kinds of scuffling noises and probably indecent ones as well. After a very short, whispered conversation which consisted mostly of "shh, shh, you have to", Merlin had the bright idea of dragging Arthur bodily out from the shadow of the tree and pushing him to the ground. It was probably more attractive in theory, or when done by people who were not lust-addled six-foot-something warlocks with coordination issues, but Arthur didn't seem to mind.

And that was how Merlin came to be kneeling over Prince Arthur in the hour before dawn, hard as a rock and with a mind full of incredible, wonderful possibilities which were nevertheless not the sort of thing you suggested to the Crown Prince of Camelot. Like _I do believe I would find it satisfactory if you sucked my cock, how about it, my lord?_ Not such a good idea.

He pretended he'd never heard of cocksucking, and managed to arrange himself so that he could work himself against Arthur, who was himself gratifyingly hard and, if the trembling in his belly below Merlin's hands was any indication, perilously close to coming. Merlin shuddered at that thought, and for a moment he could not think of anything but the terrible fact that it was dark, and Arthur was going to come before Merlin had so much as put hand to him, and Merlin couldn't even see his face.

No, he decided. That would be a tragedy. He stilled his hips with an effort, and earnt a pitiful whine from Arthur. He slithered down and had the laces of Arthur's breeches in his fingers before he realised that this was really a bit different to his everyday duties undressing the Prince.

"Can I?" he asked, suddenly hesitant. Arthur managed something which Merlin chose to interpret as _yes, of course, Merlin, you are a jewel among men and my favourite person ever_.

Before he could get Arthur's trousers off, or even sufficiently far down as to take him in hand, Arthur pulled himself up to a sitting position. Merlin stopped to kiss him, and that was good, and he was able to work the palm of his hand against Arthur, and that was good too. But before he could get carried away with that, Arthur was cradling Merlin's face in his hands and saying something - no, pleading.

"Merlin, Merlin, _please_." Merlin would promise him anything, anything at all, just to have him keep saying his name like that. "Merlin, please, I want to - oh, God, I want..."

Merlin ran his hands over Arthur's shoulders, soothing and gentle, promising him anything, anything if only he just asked. And what came out was a jumble of words, so fast he might have missed them if they weren't so perfect, and if he hadn't imagined them a thousand times and a thousand ways. _Oh, god, Merlin, I want to suck you off._

Never let it be said that Merlin looked a gift horse in the mouth. Particularly not the kind of horse he'd been whacking off to for months - not that he whacked off thinking about horses, you understand. Maybe some men would rather think about horses than about Prince Arthur on his knees, but Merlin was not such a man.

And Arthur - Arthur must have been thinking about this too, or maybe the idea had just occurred to him, the most exquisite idea he'd ever had, because he took Merlin in his mouth not with expertise but with great enthusiasm, making little happy noises around Merlin's cock and rubbing roughly at himself through his half-open breeches.

"Look at you," Merlin purred, carding his fingers through Arthur's hair. What little of his mind he had left was crowing, crowing with delight because here was everything he wanted and he hadn't even asked for it. "Look at you, Arthur, practically gagging for it." He rolled his hips a little, just to see if Arthur _would_ gag, but Arthur gripped him tightly by the hips, digging his fingernails in, and Merlin took the point. He wasn't to move.

"Oh, god," he managed. "Arthur. You've been thinking about this, haven't you? Thinking about me, wondering what it'd taste like, how much you could take... If I'd known you were so cock-hungry I'd have - uhhn - done something earlier..." His legs were shaking, and he wondered hazily if he could stay steady when he came.

And then Arthur stopped. He stopped moving, he stopped Merlin from thrusting into his mouth, and then he freed his hand from Merlin's hips and took hold of Merlin's balls, tugging them, pulling Merlin cruelly back from the brink. Then - and only once Merlin's legs stopped shaking and his breath slowed down - Arthur pulled back from Merlin.

"Yes," he said simply, and there was something flat and cold in his tone that made Merlin's stomach twist. "Yes. I have thought about it. I thought about you and I thought about all the things I'd like to do to you and yes, I thought about sucking you off."

Merlin swallowed, suddenly aware that he'd done something horribly wrong, although not entirely sure what it was. He ran one hand tentatively down Arthur's face.

"I thought about it too," he said, and hoped like hell that that was the right thing to say. "I hadn't expected... thank you," he added, because that felt right.

Arthur kissed the soft skin of Merlin's thigh, and huffed out a hot breath against his cock.

"You're welcome," he said. "Now shut up and enjoy it."


End file.
